All In Your Hands
by xcontagiousx
Summary: Non- Magic AU. They told him to stay away. Draco Malfoy was the renowned Ice Prince of the school. Cold hearted, sharp-tongued, and rumor had it he spent a lot of time on his knees after school. But Harry Potter never was one to do as he was told. HP/DM Slash


**Summary: **They told him to stay away. Draco Malfoy was the renowned Ice Prince of the school. Cold hearted, sharp-tongued, and rumor had it he spent a lot of time on his knees after school. But Harry Potter never was one to do as he was told. HP/DM Slash

**Disclaimers:** I do not own Harry Potter or any of the characters, names, etcetc. Those all belong to J.K. Rowling & Warner Bros.

**Ratings: **M for mature. Swearing. Some domestic abuse. Sexual Molestation/Possible Rape, and SLASH. You have been warned.

…

There weren't many things that surprised the students of Hogwarts Boarding School anymore. There were just certain expectations you learned to accept when you grew up in the same school for the past ten years. For instance, you learned that being even a millisecond late to Professor Snape's Chemistry class would result in immediate detention, no exceptions. Or carrying small cat treats in your pocket when walking the corridors past curfew to persuade Filch's cat Mrs. Norris to refrain from giving you away to the school's caretaker. Or that during the weekly dorm checks, Headmistress McGonagall checked the individual beds in case a student tried to sneak out and cover pillows with their comforters. Or that trying to outsmart Hermione Granger in any subject was a lost cause.

And probably the biggest and most important rule was: stay out of Draco Malfoy's way. The Malfoys were known for three things: their money, their influence, and their aristocratic, superior demeanor. And Draco had most certainly inherited the worst of everything his name had to offer.

He was loaded, spoiled, and according to any student, was the biggest arse to have ever stepped across into the school. He had attained his mother's beauty: pale, unblemished skin, very thin and lithely built, unnaturally white-blonde hair that framed cold, emotionless gray eyes and his father's less than admirable personality.

He was cold, cruel, and didn't need anyone or anything. He had no friends, and he didn't want any. His father arranged for him to have an entire dorm room, with two bedrooms a bathroom and living room, to himself. He had a new, silver Benz that he hardly drove because the only place he ever went was to the Malfoy Manor, and whenever he did, he would never waste energy on driving himself.

Instead, the Elder Malfoy would pick his prodigal son up and so the Benz sat in the parking lot, lonely, much like the owner of the car did so, much to the chagrin of the students.

All of these unspoken rules became a sort of taboo for the students. You learned them, lived by them, and your time at Hogwarts would pass smoothly and quickly and you would be on your way. So the day before the new term started, when Headmistress McGonagall made her way to the end of the West Wing Boys' Dorm to Malfoy's own, nearly every single student on the hall peered out of their rooms to see what was going on.

For several few moments, it was eerily quiet. Then suddenly…

"I'M GETTING A WHAT?" A piercing shout came from the end room, causing everybody who was intently listening in to jump.

"You heard me, Mr. Malfoy. And refrain yourself from shouting!" McGonagall said steadily.

The seething blonde complied, but the snarl in his voice was enough to make most shiver. When Draco Malfoy was unhappy, nobody was safe. "This is completely uncalled for. There are plenty of other dorm rooms. My father won't allow this!"

"I am sorry, Mr. Malfoy, but there are no more available rooms for seventh years," McGonagall explained sternly.

"Then place him in the bloody cellars then!" Malfoy protested.

"Your roommate will be moving in shortly this evening," She continued as if she hadn't heard him, turning to leave. "I trust you will help him to feel welcome-"

"Of course, I'll be sure to cater to his every dying will," Malfoy stated sarcastically. The students waited with bated breath, all picturing the trademark eye-roll of the crude teenager. Malfoy was the only person who ever talked back to McGonagall.

McGonagall paused on her way out. "You shall treat him with the utmost dignity, Mr. Malfoy. Even you are not above a week's worth of detention. That is final."

She turned on her heel, eyes narrowing at all the gathered students. "I believe you all have something better to do then stand there and dawdle," She growled, springing everyone back into action. Some returned to their rooms, thankful to have faced the Headmistress' wrath above Malfoy's. Others pretended they were visiting their neighbors as she stalked off.

If looks could kill, Malfoy would have had a hallway of deaths on his hand as he glared at the few who gathered the courage to look his way. He sneered and thrust a hand into his pocket, retrieving a pack of cigarettes and a lighter. "What the hell are you looking at?" He growled as he stormed down the hall, leaving a very interested crowd in his wake.

"Did you hear that?"

"Malfoy's getting a roommate!"

"He didn't sound to happy about it."

"I wonder who this new kid is?"

"God help him, whoever he is."

…

Harry Potter sighed as he stared out the window, watching his breath collect on the pane. He felt a reassuring squeeze on his shoulder and he turned to the driver's seat where his Godfather was looking at him worriedly.

"I know you're nervous about this," he started.

Harry shook his head dismissively. "I'm okay, Sirius. Really. Just tired." He lied.

The truth was he wasn't nervous about attending a new school at all. He was ready for a change.

Before Sirius had come into his life, Harry had been bored. Bored and unhappy. He was orphaned at a young age after his parents were brutally murdered. He wound up being sent to his Aunt and Uncle's, the Dursleys, where he found himself more of a maid than an actual member of the family.

He was always second to his cousin, Dudley, whom Harry presumed was close to the size of a whale by now. Although he was nearly always forgotten unless there was a floor to be cleaned or breakfast to be served, Dudley seemed to have a keen interest in remembering Harry for one purpose: his and his minions' punching bag.

So when Sirius appeared and offered to take Harry in, Harry jumped at the chance. He was ready for a change. Ready for a new start.

"Well, we're almost there, pup," Sirius said, ruffling his already unruly black hair. Harry grinned at the nickname his Godfather gave him.

"Do you think Remus will be one of my teachers?" He asked, sitting up straighter. Remus Lupin was one of Sirius's friends. Close friends. And he was the English teacher at Hogwarts.

"Most likely. You should get your schedule tomorrow morning before classes," He mused. Harry only nodded.

His life really had done a complete 180. He was happy. He just hoped at this new school, it would stay that way.

"What about Malfoy?" Harry asked. When he had spoken with the Headmistress, she had told him he was rooming with a seventh year like himself named Draco Malfoy.

Sirius scowled. "The Malfoys are all the same, Harry," he had warned. "They're ignorant of everyone but themselves. They're manipulative and you shouldn't trust them. That includes Draco Malfoy. He will be nothing but trouble."

Harry sighed. When Sirius had learned that he was rooming with a Malfoy, he had immediately called up the school and argued with McGonagall about the arrangement. Harry knew his Godfather was not a fan of whoever the Malfoys were and he had no idea why, but Harry had decided early on that anything would be better than the Dursleys.

When they finally pulled up to the towering school, Harry sighed in relief. He felt like he had been sitting in the car forever. They pulled up to the outside of the West Wing, which was where the seventh year boys' dorms were located. Sirius put his car in park and they both got out.

Harry retrieved a large duffel bag from the trunk, a worn black backpack and a single cardboard box that held what few belongings other than clothes and school supplies he owned.

"Do you need help bringing everything in?" Sirius asked, closing the trunk after his Godson. Harry shook his head.

"I'll be alright," he promised. "Go find Remus."

Sirius rolled his eyes but Harry saw the small turn of his lips at the mention of Remus's name. "Call me if you need anything." He pulled Harry into as tight a hug as he could muster with everything that was in his arms and once again ruffled his hair.

"I'll be fine, Sirius," Harry smiled, and as if to prove it, dug into his jeans pocket for his room key and headed out of the parking lot to the brick building. The sound of a car pulling off hesitantly told him Sirius took his advice. He rolled his eyes. Sometimes Sirius was more of a teenager than he was.

As he reached to open the door, it sung open, knocking him off balance and causing the contents of his box to scatter along the concrete.

"Hey!"

"Sorry! I didn't see you," The person apologized, immediately dropping to the ground and helping Harry grab his things.

Harry shrugged. "It's alright." As the boy stood up, holding a frame and a few books, he finally took notice of whom he had crashed into.

"You're the new student, aren't you?" He asked.

Harry nodded. "Harry Potter," He said, holding out his hand. The boy, who now in the lamplight Harry could see clearly, was tall, had bright red hair and his face a mess of freckles.

"Ron Weasley," He took Harry's hand, grinning widely. "You're going to be our new dorm-mate. We were wondering when you were going to get here."

He returned Harry's things and walked back inside excitedly, Harry following behind. "We?" Harry asked.

Ron turned and looked at him as he led them down several hallways. "Yeah. You'll meet Seamus and Dean. They're great blokes. You're all the school's been talking about for the past few days. A new student. Cause you know, most of us have gone here since grade school," He explained hastily.

Ron pulled out a card from his wallet and flashed it across a sensor on the door, unlocking it. They stepped into a room furnished with a small kitchen, dining area and living room.

A rather pudgy boy was sitting in front of the television, his eyes downcast at a pile of papers in front of him.

"Harry, this is Neville. Me and him share a room right next to Seamus and Dean."

Neville looked up from his work, his brow furrowed in concentration. "Hi Harry," He introduced himself, standing up and shaking hands.

"Hullo."

"This is kind of like our living room. But we all have our own bedrooms on either side. Seamus and Dean are roommates there," He said, pointing to where the main room led to a small passageway. "Our bedrooms are right next to them."

"I'm assuming I'm over there, then?" Harry asked, motioning towards the opposite side where there appeared to be only one more room.

Neville nodded grimly. "Yeah. Unfortunately you got the short end of the stick."

"What do you mean?" Harry asked, finally putting down his duffel bag and box on the countertop. He rolled his shoulders.

"Well, apparently, we were short of seventh year rooms," Neville began. Ron just shook his head.

"Basically, you have to room with the most insufferable git that has ever walked the earth," he finished.

"Malfoy."

Ron and Neville both gave him confused looks. "My Godfather already told me about the Malfoys," He explained quickly. "Something about rich and acting like they own the place."

Ron snorted. "That's a nice way of putting it."

"Let's go ahead and get Harry in while we can," Neville suggested. "You have your key?"

He nodded and the three walked across the room to the unopened door. "The Malfoys are a bunch of no-good, dirty, conniving bastards. Especially the one you're living with. I think McGonagall may have had a death wish for you."

Harry fumbled with the lock as he took in Ron's words. As they stepped in, the first thing that came to Harry's attention was the color of the room. The walls were painted a light silver color and half of the room was completely furnished.

There were two beds that sat across from each other. One was immaculately made with a dark green comforter, and the other was untouched. In fact, most of the room was utterly, one hundred percent clean and orderly and in some shade, a color green. Compulsively so. Both a desk and two dressers, one Harry presumed was probably his, were set separate from his bed and desk. Almost as if his roommate had taken what he pleased in the room and pushed everything he wanted as far back into the corner as he could.

He set his bag and box down on the bed and looked around, noticing that he wasn't the only one looking around as if he had seen the room for the first time.

"Never been in here?" He joked.

Ron shook his head in awe. "Never took the git to be OCD."

"Should have guessed it though," Neville noted dully.

"Harry, please tell me you're a disgusting slob," Ron said, his eyes flashing ruefully as he jumped onto Harry's mattress. Neville quickly followed suit.

Harry laughed, rolling his eyes and decided to unpack his clothes rather than answer Ron.

"I'm alright," He admitted, taking out small piles of folded shirts and jeans. He walked over to one of the drawers and opened it. To his surprise, what should have been his dresser was already taken up by what he could only presume were Malfoy's clothes.

The second and third drawer preceded in the same fashion. He looked up in exasperation.

"What's wrong?"

"It's completely full."

"Every drawer?"

"Every single inch possible," Harry commented as Ron bounced off the bed and took a look for himself.

"The snake's more poncy than I thought!" He grinned. Harry ignored him and went across the room to the other set of drawers and looked in them just to be safe.

He stalked sullenly back to his bed where he began to put his clothes back into his bag.

"What are you doing?" Ron asked, eyebrows raised.

"What does it look like?"

"Yeah, but-" He sighed, rubbing a hand across his face. "Harry, this is your room too now. And I'm sure Malfoy won't object to sharing his closet space."

Harry's eyes narrowed. "I think you want me to get on his bad side Ron."

"Everyone's on his bad side, Harry," Neville pointed out. Ron nodded. "You see."

Harry didn't look convinced.

"Look, Malfoy is used to walking all over people. Like father like son. And if you don't put your foot down, he's going to do the same thing to you. It's bad enough you have to share a room with him."

Harry sighed as Ron continued ranting, but he did in some way agree. Everything he had heard thus far was just more reasons to be apprehensive about his new roommate. But it didn't mean he wanted to start off the wrong way before he even properly met the kid.

Nevertheless, he handed Ron a stack of jeans at the redhead's insistence and watched as he shoved Malfoy's clothes into the two bottom drawers.

"So Harry," Neville started, taking his focus off Ron mutilating the once pristine organization of Malfoy's belongings, "Do you know what classes you're taking?"

Harry shrugged, deciding he might as well start to unpacking everything else. "Kinda. I know they made me a schedule. I have to get it tomorrow morning after breakfast. I expect you know where the main office is?"

"Yeah. Ron and I can show you before your classes. It's not too hard to get around once you know where you're going."

"There!" Ron exclaimed happily, shutting the rest of the opened drawers. "I cannot wait to see Malfoy's face."

"Other than the fact that this Malfoy is a downright bastard, what else should I be worried about?" Harry wanted to make sure he was fully prepared to take on his new roommate.

"Nothing much. He mostly keeps to himself," Neville said.

"Pshh. Yeah, when he's not throwing out insults like Snape gives detention," Ron countered bitterly. "Just bite him right back. He's all talk."

"Talk isn't the only thing Malfoy does with his mouth." A fourth voice suddenly chirped in. Harry whirled around to see two boys, who he guessed were Seamus and Dean, standing in the doorway. He only took slight note of the implications of what was just said.

"So this is what his room looks like?" One of them drawled.

"Ignore him," A tall, burly blonde said, nudging his friend's ribs. "I'm Seamus. You must be Potter."

"Er…yeah?"

"Seamus knows everybody," Ron hastily explained. "He works in the front office. Knows everything about anything that goes on here."

The blonde grinned sheepishly.

"He knows more gossip than a girl," Dean muttered, rubbing his side. "I'm Dean. Nice to meet you."

"Pleasure."

"Well I think I've had enough of being in Malfoy's room," Neville said quietly, getting to his feet.

"Don't want to be here when the brat gets back," Seamus chided.

"Not you guys too," Harry groaned.

"What's wrong?"

"Harry's just been given the rundown of Malfoy," Ron said, following Neville and his two other flat mates out of the room into the common area.

Seamus shrugged. "We all learn the hard way."

They congregated around the room. Dean sat next to Neville and the two became indulged in whatever studying Neville had been attempting before.

"So where are you from?" Ron started, wisely going off the topic of Malfoy. There was no need to warn Harry further. Seamus was right, he would learn eventually.

"Surrey," He replied. "Lived with my Aunt and Uncle. Horrid people," He mused.

"Why'd you leave?"

"Found out I had a Godfather. Much better than living with them. They were a nightmare." He tried to explain without having to go into detail. It wasn't like most of his childhood was terrible, but some parts of it, he just wished to finally move on from.

"What about your parents?"

"Dead."

An awkward silence suddenly settled over the room and Dean and Neville looked up from the table.

"I'm sorry."

Harry shook his head quickly. "It's no big deal. I was only three or something. Don't really remember it at all."

They looked at him sympathetically. "Same here," Neville said. "I live with my grandmother. That's how I got here anyway."

"So you moved from Surrey then with your Godfather?" Ron pressed on.

"Mmm. Him and Remus are close."

"Remus? As in Lupin? English teacher extraordinaire?" Seamus' eyes blazed knowingly.

"Yeah?"

"So your Godfather is Moony's little admirer!" He said.

"Um, yeah.." Harry drawled. He wasn't certain that he should have given that bit of information out. He definitely didn't mean to." "S'pose so."

Ron seemed to read the apprehension in Harry's voice. "We don't mind. Honest. Besides, with the two of them here," he motioned to Dean and then back to the blonde, "we've pretty much gotten used to it. As an everyday occurrence."

Seamus pouted. "We are not that bad!"

Harry felt his shoulders relaxed, noticing how tense he had been at first. He never really spoke about his sexual orientation. But he was fairly sure that he held little interest to girls.

"It doesn't bother me," he agreed.

The three elapsed into more conversation as the night grew longer. Harry learned that Ron was the second youngest of 6 other siblings and that he was currently pursuing the smartest girl in school, Hermione Granger. Seamus' parents were divorced but it seemed like he was making the most of it. And he also learned that Ron was good at chess. Really good.

He had really played before, but when they began to run out of introductory topics, he brought out his chessboard. He lasted only a few minutes, and even Seamus hardly fared better.

They were so immersed in the game that they didn't even hear the door open.

"Well isn't this nice," A voice drawled impatiently, causing every one in the room to look up.

A thin blonde stalked moodily into the room.

He was deathly pale, Harry noticed first. The second thing he noticed was the shock of white-blonde hair that fell over a very attractive and slightly pointed face. And he had cold, unforgiving silver eyes that narrowed as they met directly with his own.

"What is this? A house-warming party from the welcoming committee?" He scoffed. Harry was surprised at the amount of venom that laced his words.

The temperature in the room seemed to drop as glares were sent in both directions.

"Clever, Malfoy." Ron hissed. "But seeing as you weren't invited, bugger off."

Malfoy didn't seem in the slightest bit concerned. "Like I would want to attend anything put together by your filthy hands," he shrugged, looking disinterestedly at his fingernails.

"Sod off," He growled warningly. Harry watched as the blonde left the wall and stood in the small hallway for a moment.

"Is that the best you can come up with Weasel? Never mind. Shouldn't have expected anything remotely intelligent coming from you." With that, he turned on his heel and walked into his bedroom. _Their_ bedroom, Harry winced.

Ron seethed and Harry could see his knuckles turning white has he clenched his fists.

He looked at him worriedly then stood up. "I'm going to go talk to him." He decided. Ron's anger fell away to astonishment.

"That's suicide Harry," he warned.

"I have to face it sometimes, and I would prefer to do it now before I'm locked out of my room." He tried to ignore all four pairs of eyes looking at him like he was walking the plank. He took a deep breath and made his way to where the blond had disappeared.

He stood in the doorway for a moment, only slightly surprised that it remained opened. Malfoy had his back turned towards him and was, to Harry's horror, angrily going through his clothes and throwing them onto the floor below.

"Hey!"

Without even glancing backwards, the blond growled, "I'm terribly sorry. I suppose you don't like it when people go through your stuff either."

Harry stormed into the room, his anger starting to rise. What was with this guy? He reached down and snatched his clothes from the floor.

"I have to put my stuff somewhere."

"Preferably back where you came from."

Harry pinched the bridge of his nose, willing himself to calm down. "Look, I'll find a solution. But for now, you're going to have to share."

Malfoy finally looked up and met his eyes. His glare was cold and made Harry shiver slightly, but he didn't relent. He held the stare.

Malfoy rolled his eyes. "Whatever." He turned and started rummaging through a black backpack, pulling out what looked to be a small green pack. Harry sighed.

"This was not a good way to start off.," He groaned. "We're going to be living with each other whether we like it or not, so let's just start over, okay?" The blonde ignored him. "I'm Harry." He reached out his hand next to Malfoy's shoulder and saw the boy tense.

His arm was beginning to ache as a slow, agonizing minute went by. When Malfoy turned, Harry was expecting a little less mirth in the glare, but instead, he was faced with a dirty sneer and a pair of relentless narrowed eyes. There was anger and coldness, but Harry also saw how they stormed over as if he was confused or hurt.

It was startling. He swatted Harry's hand away angrily. "I don't give a damn who you are."

Harry was taken aback by the maliciousness. He dropped his hand and instead folded his arms, chest beating wildly.

"What the hell is wrong with you?" His patience was ebbing away. "I'm just trying to be polite here!"

"Listen close, Potter," Malfoy spat. "Everything you've probably already heard from your so-called friends is probably true." He stepped forward and Harry found himself preparing to defend himself. But the blonde didn't move again.

"I am not friendly. I am not polite," He mocked Harry's words. "I don't have friends and I don't want any. Least of all you," He checked Harry up and down as he said so, which would have made him self-conscious if it weren't for the fact that he was spitting mad himself.

"So do us all a favor and leave me the fuck alone." He finished and didn't even give Harry time to retort before he was cursing to himself and leaving the room.

"Hold up, where are you going?" He demanded.

"None of your business Potter." He called behind him, making a show of slamming the door shut in his wake.

He heard a low whistle in the common room and as the anger abated, he slumped into the couch next to Ron.

"Can't say I didn't warn you."

He sent a half-hearted glare at the redhead who had the decency to look regretful.

"At least you can say you tried, Harry," Neville reassured him.

"I wouldn't waste your breath on him. That's how he acts with everyone. The only time he isn't shooting insults is when he's sucking the professors off." Seamus stated.

Harry rubbed his fingers behind his glasses. He could already feel a headache coming. But he caught on to Seamus' words again. That was the second reference that had been made insinuating that Malfoy was…well, doing what exactly, he wasn't sure.

But if all the other accusations had so far held true, which they did, he wondered just how far off this was to the real truth.

…

Draco Malfoy shuddered in the cold. It wasn't necessarily cold, but a light rain that seemed to damper his already bad mood made him cold and being on the rooftop of the dorm building with no proper jacket didn't really help.

His hands were shaking as he pulled the green pack apart and retrieved another cigarette. His nerves were shot. Had been since that bitch McGonagall told him he was to share a room.

He did not need a roommate. And he did not need friends, as he so kindly told that Potter kid. And really, what kind of person just took it upon themselves to empty out someone else's drawers. Selfish prat.

He shook his head and concentrated on lighting his cigarette, shielding the butt from the drizzle.

It was a particularly nasty habit. He knew it was. But he couldn't help but find consolation in it whenever he was on edge, which tended to be more often than not.

He exhaled the smoke deeply, closing his eyes and holding his breath for several moments before he released it into the air in a small cloud. Instantly, his nerves settled somewhat.

But he couldn't help but feel like things had truly gone to shit this year. Sure, they had been bad before, but more than ever, Draco found himself becoming more ostracized and lonely than he had ever been.

And it was his own fault. His own damn fault.

Trust.

That word again. He bit his lip bitterly as he looked out across the forest behind the dorm. He didn't trust anyone. Hell, he didn't trust his own parents. Everyone that he had ever come close to, had hurt him in some way or another.

But he was a Malfoy. And he had expectations to uphold. Like being cruel, superior, and independent. Uncaring, resentful, prideful, arrogant. He was not to mingle with other students, not that he particularly cared to, but that was all in the upbringing too.

He sighed, leaning his head back against the shingles. He stared at his left hand and twirled the cigarette lightly between his fingers.

This was the only ounce of control he had over his life anymore. This was his lifeline. Pathetic really.

Speaking of pathetic, Potter's lame attempt to do what no other could do. How more brainless could you get?

Then again, he was sure Potter had probably heard all the horrible things about him. And yet, he still offered his hand in friendship.

He scowled. He could have taken it. Could have chanced letting someone in for once. But his pride wouldn't let him. He didn't care. Really, he didn't.

He was lonely. But that didn't matter. All he needed was his pack and his lighter, something he had been telling himself for the past two years. He was fine on his own. Better off that way.

The rain started to fall faster and he finally ground out his smoke against the damp shingles. He wasn't quite sure how long he had been out here, nor how much of his pack was now gone.

But the chill began to settle in his bones, and he was going to have to go back anyways. Better to get it over with now than later.

He rubbed his eyes in exhaustion as he returned back to the room. The lights were all off except for a small glow underneath his door. Great. He thought. That means Potter's still up.

He opened the door and walked in, seeing that Potter had turned on his table lamp. Without permission. He bit back an angry retort. He was too tired to fight more tonight.

Potter looked up from a book he was reading in his lap.

"Come back, have you?"

He was promptly ignored as Malfoy pulled off his light sweater and grabbed some towels from the bathroom, shutting the door with more force than necessary. He turned on the shower, making sure the water was hot.

Hot enough to burn. He winced as he stepped in, feeling the water scald his skin. He sighed in relief. He considered this part two of how to calm his nerves.

Before he could get used to the temperature, he took a bar of soap and began scrubbing viciously at his body. He didn't stop until the skin was nearly raw, and only then did he put the soap down and proceed with his hair.

Step one was calming the nervous and sick fluttering of his body. The second step was getting rid of the dirt. Because he was filthy. As dirty as they come. Because Seamus had part of his gossip right. And there was nothing he could do to stop the rumors…or what was really happening.

He realized too late that he was digging his nails into his scalp and he slowly withdrew his hands. No blood. But he was sure there were crescent sized welts beneath his hair.

As he finished his shower and stepped out of the water, he looked into the mirror. He was thin. Almost painfully, although nowhere near emaciation. But this year was already taking a toll on him. He had lost weight.

And he knew that because he wasn't eating properly. Nor was he sleeping good. This year had really gone to shit. And it was only a month in.

He sighed and dressed for bed and combed his hair before he shut the light off and made his way to his bed. Potter had lain down, it seemed, but failed to turn the lamp off. Idiot. He turned it off and managed to catch a small glimpse of Potter.

His eyes were closed, glasses sitting on the windowsill next to his bed, and he seemed to be asleep.

Good. Maybe he decided to stop waiting on Malfoy to finish his shower.

"Malfoy?"

"Or not," he muttered under his breath.

"What?"

"Nothing. What do you want Potter?" He grimaced at how rude his words were coming out, but he couldn't help it. He slid beneath the covers and glared over at Potter's bed.

There was silence for a moment. Then…

"Night Draco."

He froze at the words. No one ever called him by his first name. It was…unnerving. And at the same time made his heart skip. Potter was still trying to be friendly?

He had guts for sure. But no brains. He threw a deadly glare across the room, quite aware that his new roommate wouldn't be able to see it.

Stupid Potter. He didn't need a friend. He didn't need anyone.

"Sod off." Was the last thing he remembered saying before he turned to face the wall and quietly contemplated how his life had gotten so out of control.

He fingered his lighter in his hand and sighed. It was going to be another sleepless night.

…

**Ehh. So that was it. Don't really know why I started this. It just wouldn't get out of my head. And I will go ahead and apologize, for as many stores on FFN that I've read of HP/DM, I am no good with putting words into their personalities. I suck at witty remarks and comebacks, which you probably saw above. I might end up editing those if I can think of anything better.**

**But R&R. Let me know what you think. Chapter 2 may or may not be coming soon depending on if this interests enough readers.**


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